Just Another Day in the Mission Field

About 5:30 one afternoon, Sabay called and asked me to go with him to help bring a baby to the hospital. He said the baby was one of Poo Sot’s family members and lives out near the village of Busra. The details of the situation were unclear, but I agreed to go, and I brought Alex as well. At Sabay’s house, we had prayer before we left. After we picked up some diesel, Sabay called the family to make sure they were still on board with bringing the baby into the hospital. One of the challenges of this trip was that the last three miles was on rough, muddy roads, and it was the middle of rainy season.

By the time we made it to the turnoff from the main road, the sun was down, and it was very dark. The family had said they would send someone on a motorcycle to guide us in, so we started off to meet them on the maze of muddy roads. Another challenge was that, though my truck had four-wheel drive, it didn’t have mud tires.

We didn’t get more than half a mile down the road before we encountered our first obstacle—a new bridge that wasn’t crossable. So we had to backtrack and look for a different route. We were bouncing around in our little truck, weaving through rubber-tree plantations and pepper fields. Several times we had to get out of the truck and scout the road ahead with flashlights to see whether it was passable. I knew that the roads we were traversing could easily end up trapping us there for the night, but we kept on moving forward. Sometimes a section of road seemed impassible, but either God would provide another route, or it was as if we had angels pushing on the back of our truck to keep us moving closer to the sick child.

We finally met up with the father of the sick baby, and he led us through the rest of the maze of fields. About 100 yards from their house, we came to an area that looked difficult to pass, so the man went looking for a way around the obstacle.

A few minutes later, a group of men arrived with flashlights, and they began to guide me through a clearing. All of a sudden my right front tire dropped into a hole. I got out and surveyed the situation. The ground was soft, and I knew it would be a miracle if I could get out. All the men crowded around the back end of my truck and helped push. After a little bit of rocking back and forth and lots of pushing, the truck was free, and I was able to drive up the hill to the little Khmer-style house on stilts. Sabay and I got out and were warmly greeted by Poo Sot and his family. It had been close to a year and a half since I had seen Poo Sot. We were both happy to see each other again.

When I asked about the sick baby, I learned that it was actually the mother of the child, Poo Sot’s daughter, who was sick. I had also heard rumors that she was possessed by a demon.

I took Sabay aside and asked that we take a few minutes for prayer. After asking for forgiveness of our sins, we led out in a time of prayer and singing for the sick lady. Then the group loaded into the truck for the drive to the hospital.

After stopping several more times to survey routes around large mud holes, we made it safely to the main road. It was at this point that Sabay realized his wallet was missing. He searched around his seat and in the back of the truck but could not find it. He had just received his salary for the month and was quite concerned at its disappearance. There wasn’t anything we could do about it, so we continue on to the hospital.

Once we got the family settled at the hospital, Sabay and I searched the truck again but still didn’t find the missing wallet. So we lifted the problem up to God and left it in His hands.

The next day, Sabay retraced our entire route. As he checked the first section of the road where we had stopped at the unfinished bridge, he found his wallet lying in the grass. His money was still in it. What a miracle!

The sick lady was treated for calcium deficiency and released from the hospital. Later, we found out she was also demon-possessed, so we had several prayer sessions with her and her family. But that is another story for another time.